In Pursuit, Completely and Without Expectation

I feel like a hundred things have happened since I last spent time at A Burning Ember. Most of it seems somehow too personal to blog. That's probably a good thing. We all need our own secrets, our internal worlds which are held like cards tightly to our chests.

This has been a rough year for me. I'll say that. But it's also one of the best I've had. Somehow the chronic medical stuff that I'm still trying to erase takes a back seat to my obsession with album-making. And my album-making leads me like a Band-aid ripped off of a wound back to the source of what ails me. It's all the same thing.

When exposed to the elements of music and living I fester. I float around like a lost piece of driftwood on a swelling sea. I know what I want, after years of not knowing a goddamn thing. And I have been given permission to drift in it a while, just to remember what being alive is like. I had no idea I wanted to float so badly. I, who had been trying to put down roots because I imagined myself to be a tree.

So yeah, this entry is a little opaque. I guess the point is I'm happy and I'm at home out here, even with the chronic stuff. And I'm also more heartbroken because I see the dark clouds off in the distance. At some point there will be a mad swim to some strange new shore. Desire is a double edged blade; it is waves and weather. Mixed metaphors. Whatever.

I'm pretty sure I won't get the objects of my desire. I'm ok with that. That's not really the point. Conquest is not the point. The point is the pursuit, completely and without expectation. Whether it's the music I'm chasing -- we wrapped up Rhodes parts recently, had a beautiful pedal steel session, and completed some lovely electric guitar -- or the rather effortlessly found funds to finish the project (yay!), or the life I'm hoping to embrace because it's mine, art and life conspire. I'm strung along. I don't even care. And I don't care where it ends.